#it's been a long long time

[winniemaywebber]

It's Been A Long, Long Time • Part 4

🌹🌸 Jo and Jean 🌸🌹

masterlist

read previous parts here: 1 2 3

“Rosie?” Jean murmurs, shaking him awake. He wakes with a start and a snort, the baby beginning to cry at the sudden ruckus. 

“Aw, jeez,” Rosie says, looking at you apologetically. “What time is it?”

“Six o'clock. Seems little guy here blessed you with a whole night of sleep and a little time to sleep in. Wish he'd do that for me and his Papa.” She winks at Rosie, patting him on the shoulder. “Go upstairs to bed, doll. That chair isn't the most comfortable.”

“You can say that again,” he groans, stretching as he gets up. “You look well rested.”

“I am. Thank you, Robert. I really appreciate it, we both do.”

He nods, yawning and scratching his head as he exits the room. 

“See ya later, Jean.”

—

Scooping the baby up, Jean begins to go through her regular morning routine: diaper change, bottle and a change of clothes. Her and the baby are both exhausted by the time this is all done, thankful for the moment the baby falls asleep with a warm, full belly so that she's able to fix herself breakfast. It's when the toast pops up that she hears her husband pad his way down the plush carpet stairs, greeting her sleepily.

“Morning, Mrs Crosby,” he murmurs, kissing her deeply. 

“Morning, Binger. Toast?”

“Yes please,” he answers, pouring himself coffee from the pot on the stove. “Rosie taking a nap?”

“Sure is. I don't think the baby gave him too much trouble. When I came down at six, the pair of them were still sleeping!”

“Six?” Bing replies, shocked. “That little imp.” He shakes his head, laughing as he takes a sip from his mug. “That's just the Uncle Rosie touch.”

“Hey, a little soft jazz, a soothing conversation and some swaying, he was out like a light,” Rosie announces himself, looking a lot more refreshed than he did two hours ago. 

“Here he is. Morning, buddy.”

“Hiya, Croz.” 

Jean places a cup of coffee in front of him, asking if he'd like some toast by pointing to the toaster. 

“Yes, please, Mrs Croz. Little man okay?”

“Oh, yeah! He's just taking his first cat nap of the day.”

“That's good. I hope you don't mind, but I made a few calls last night.”

“You know that's fine, Rosie. While you're here, treat it like your own home,” she says, handing him the plate of toast.

“Yeah, pal. You're family, Uncle Rosie.”

“Thank you, guys. I gotta tell ya, first call was to my Ma. Second to–”

“To Jo. We know, doll.”

“How sad is that? Can't even go one night without hearing her voice.”

“Neither can my wife,” Bing grumbles jokingly, wiping his mouth. 

“Seems we're in the same boat, Jean,” he laughs, shaking his head. “I promised her I'd bring her here to visit the very second we are married.”

“You'd better. But let us get home first. We can't be racing down the highway with a baby in tow!”

—

The boys clear up the dishes before getting ready for a day of golfing. Jean and the baby decide to take it easy, lazing around in bed, playing and snuggling until she hears a sudden knock on the door. The baby on her hip, she quickly descends the stairs in her stockinged feet, careful not to slip. Opening the door, she lets out a delighted scream, practically jumping up and down in the doorway.

“Josephine!” she squeals, the girls hugging tightly. Without a word, she takes the baby from Jean's arms and looks at him, a huge grin on her face and tears in her eyes.

“Oh, he's gotten so big!” she cries, holding Jean close again. “He looks just like you, doll.”

“Do you think?” 

“Apart from–”

“The eyes,” they both say, their words overlapping. 

“Oh yeah,” Jo laughs. “No mistaking those brown puppy dog eyes. How did Uncle Wosie do, huh, buddy? He do a good job?”

“Girl, I don't know what kind of magic touch your man has, but that baby slept all night long.”

“Was that after he called his Ma in a panic?”

“He called her panicking? Jeez, he told us he had it covered.”

“Robbie can be an excellent liar, Jean. Remember our favorite one? ‘I'll meet you at Minton’s when I'm home after my 25th mission.’ Psh.” The girls break into giggles, Jean taking her hand and leading her into the dining room.

“You need me to take him?” She asks as they sit down. 

“Absolutely not, lady. I'm getting my fill,” she says, squeezing the baby's cheeks and making him smile. “Oh, he's a darling.”

“How did you persuade your father to let you come out here? I thought his rule was you had to wait until you and Robbie were married.”

“Well,” Jo sighs, stroking the baby's soft blond hair with her cheek. “Mom saw how miserable I was when I returned home this morning from the Rosenthal house. I'd just slept in Robbie’s bed and it smelled so much of him that…I just missed him terribly, especially knowing he was here with you guys.  Mom saw that and rolled her eyes. ‘Go on then. I'll tell your father.’” 

“I know how fast you flew out that door!”

“Didn't even let her finish the sentence. Out of there like a shot. I missed you so much, Jean.”

“I've missed you, too, doll.” The pair hold hands across the table for a second, both of their eyes filling with tears at finally being reunited after so many months apart. They had been each other's glue, backbone and support system during war time, the both of them sharing a unique bond as they fought with their emotions involving their men being overseas, putting their lives in constant danger for the good of their country. Them having to be apart once the boys had returned home was heart wrenching, Jean finally moving into her marital home upstate while Josephine returned to her family home in Brooklyn after baby Crosby was born. That's why their bond was so incredibly strong and unbreakable: it was Jo that held her hand through labor pains, placing cool washcloths on her head as she screamed and fought through the indescribable pain childbirth brought. It was Josephine that was there as the baby entered the world, his father thousands of miles away. 

“There's a cute house for sale a couple blocks away. Perfect for a newly married couple,” Jean winks, looking knowingly across the table at her friend. 

“Ugh, I wish he'd hurry up with it already. I am dying to marry that man.”

“Don't we know it,” she laughs, standing up and turning to the stove to fix a pot of coffee. “I've been putting in a good word for you.”

“It's your job as my best friend to do such a thing,” she replies, staring down at the baby on her lap. “And yours, little man! Come on, tell me! Did Uncle Wosie say anything to you last night? I'm listening.” The baby gurgles, smiling up at his aunt. “Keeping it a secret, huh? He tell you to do that? Of course he did. The cheek of the man.”

“And yet,” Jean says, stirring the coffee. “You love him.”

“That I do, Jean. That I do.”

—

The door swings open a couple of hours later, the sun just beginning to set, the house sinking into the orange glow. The two men swing their golf bags in, neglecting to take off their shoes as they plod into the living room. 

“Jean?” Harry calls, gingerly opening the living room door. “We're home, sweetheart.” He takes in the vision of Jean and Josephine giggling on the couch, the baby napping in the bassinet next to them. “Well, I'll be damned. Look who's here!”

“Honey!” Rosie yells, rushing up to her and taking her in his arms. “Uggghh,” he growls as he squeezes her, his hands raking through her hair. “But how–when did you–”

“She turned on the sad eyes with Mrs Harris and she couldn't say no when she said she missed her best friend and nephew,” Jean answers, her heart melting as they embrace over and over again. Bing is grinning from ear to ear at the sight too, walking over to the couch and placing soft kisses all over his wife's face before finally kissing her on the mouth. 

“Hi,” he murmurs, reaching down to stroke the baby's head. “How was your day?”

“The best, Binger. I'm so happy she's here.”

“I know. I can see it. You tell her about that house yet?”

“Sure did. I'm sure she'll poke him about it as the evening goes on.” 

Harry nods, nuzzling into his wife as he sits on the couch. “Love you, Mrs Crosby.” 

“Love you more, Bing.” 

—

The four had sat down to dinner, all exchanging anecdotes as they ate. Rosie and Bing had regaled the girls with their heroic tales of war: Bing staying awake for seventy two hours to ensure Rosie and their other men were safe on the day of days. Rosie celebrating his twenty fifth mission by buzzing the tower, Josephine having received a play by play of the event from Red Cross Girl, Valencia. Beginning as a comforting penpal, Val had become a friend of Jo and Jean's, along with her friend Olive.

“Have you heard from Val, Jo?”

“Yes! This past week actually. What did she say? Let me think…” she trails off, brow furrowed as she tries to recall the letter's contents. “Oh, yes! She's back home with Blakely, and Olive went with her. It must be such a shock for her to go from little old England to New York City in the blink of an eye like that, but Val says she's taking to it very well. They're all very happy. Olive is staying with them until she’s ready to go to Michigan to be with Dougie.”

“We must see them before she leaves. I'm dying to meet Olive.”

“Me, too! She sounds so sweet according to Val’s letters.”

“Who, English?” Croz perks up, toying with his whiskey glass. “Oh, yeah, she's a doll. A little contained at first because of the British shyness, but once she gets out of her shell…”

“A funny, funny girl. As is Valencia. She really brings Olive out of that mentioned shell, actually. Birds of a feather. Remind me of you two, actually.”

“Well, seems we'll all get along just fine,” Jean says, beginning to tidy up the dessert plates. 

“Sit down, Jean. We've got it.” Jo shoots a look at Robbie, taking the plates from Jean. “You and Harry go sit.”

“If you're both sure?”

“Of course. Thank you for dinner, darling. It was magnificent.”

—

Retiring to the living room, Harry picks up his son, who is gurgling happily in his bassinet. 

“Hey, buddy!” he coos, kissing his face. He sits down next to his wife, his head leaning on her shoulder.

“Where are they gonna sleep?”

“Binger, we have something called a guest room. That's where our guests sleep, wouldn't you know.” He shakes his head at her, laughing. 

“Together?”

“Yes, together. I doubt they're going to consummate their long term relationship in the guest bedroom of their best friends’ house while their nephew is only down the hall.”

“You're right. My bad.”

“Mind in the gutter, as always, Crosby.”

“Only for you, Mrs.” 

Hearing a ruckus in the kitchen, Harry and Jean turn their heads towards the door. They hear sounds of splashing, Jo giggling and Rosie laughing heartily as someone slips, a squeak echoing on the tiled floor. Jean begins to snort, Harry joining in as he hears a thump. “Are you sure they're doing dishes in there?”

“I dread to think of the state of the sink, Bing,” she says, wiping her eyes. 

A few moments later, the couple join them in the living room, the front of their shirts soaked. 

“What in God's name?”

“Robert thought it would be funny to play with the soap. What he didn't know,” Josephine says, poking at his cheek playfully, “is that I can give it back just as good.”

“Is my floor flooded?”

“No, ma'am,” Rosie says sheepishly. “I dried it up.” 

Jean can't help but laugh at Rosie's expression, seeing that Jo - whose shirt was a little less wet than her man's - had obviously won the fight that Rosie had started. Looking between them, she smiles, seeing the twinkle in both of their eyes as they wipe soap from each other's hair, it flicking off of Rosie's curls.

“On that note, darlings, I'm off to bed. Jo, you're in the guest room with Rosie.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, Jean, that okay? I can sleep on the couch.” 

Jean waves a hand in dismissal, shaking her head. “Josephine came here so you could be together with no disturbances or silly rules. Of course it's okay.”

“Well, I also came to see you and my nephew,” Jo says, hugging her gently. “But thank you. You're a darling.”

“Goodnight, friends,” she says, beginning to exit the room with Harry hot on her heels, carrying the bassinet and the baby upstairs.

“Let me tuck you in, honey,” he whispers as they get to the bedroom. “Make sure you're all cozy.”

“Yes please, sweetheart. That's a lovely idea.” 

“How would you feel about us putting this little fella in his nursery tonight? Try it out?”

“Maybe,” Jean hesitates. “I'd like to sleep, though.”

“Hey, it's the weekend. I'll listen for him.” 

“Okay,” she breathes out, shoulders falling. “If you're sure.”

“Always. He's my boy. I'd stay awake forever for him if I had to.”

“At least we know you could make it three days before you dropped, so that's something.”

“Hey, now. That was just a fluke.”

“Mhm,” she mutters, sliding into the bedsheets. “Are you coming to bed, too?”

“Soon, my love. I wanna make sure the baby goes to sleep first.”

“Okay,” she replies sadly. 

“Hey, now, Mrs Crosby. Don't give me that pout, as cute as it is. I'll be in bed with you soon.”

“Fine,” she huffs, arms crossed in mock upset. 

“Would a kiss make it better, hm?” 

“Yes,” she grins, arms uncrossed immediately to grab him. They kiss deeply for a few moments before she sinks down in her pillow, Bing tucking the sheet around her body. 

“I love you so much,” he says, kissing her temple. “So, so much.”

“I love you too, darling.”

taglist: @sagesolsticewrites @ginabaker1666 @manonsmanicmind @hephaestn

[fawnshy]

Opening two slots for headshot commissions at $50 if anyone would like to grab one ❤ my hands have been feeling great lately (yay!!) and I'm raring to draw, so turnaround would be a week or less. Visit my website for more information, and please feel free to DM me here or shoot me an email at sketchshy@gmail.com if you're interested! Thanks!!

[eowynwebs]

thinking about post war Jean and Croz and how they don't know how to be around one another in those first few weeks. they don't know how to approach each other, or what to talk about.

but it happens one night, over a late night mug of coffee while they're snuggled on the couch. she's stronger, more forthright than when he left all that time ago.

"I missed you for all those years yet I find myself still missing you. it feels like I'm living with a stranger."

maybe it all comes out then; Bremen, Bubbles, the affair, the anger, the disdain. and his wife sits and listens but when he stops talking, there it is: the soft eyes and the tousled hair and the man she fell in love with. it seems, with telling her everything, he comes back to himself. he comes home.

[moo-blogging]

Hey! How are you? 💛 wanna write about comforting Levi after a nightmare or an expedition gone sideways? I’m a sucker for hurt/comfort 🥺

Late night (hurt/comfort) thoughts #110:

It was too fast. It came too fast from your right. An abnormal titan grabbed your horse and you almost fell off. Panicking, you grabbed the wrong smoke gun from the bag hanging on your horse. You shot it on the titan instead. It angered the titan and it squeezed your horse too hard your horse's neck broke in its fist. By then, you grabbed the right colour and fired it onto the sky. The loud bang angered the titan and it threw the horse into a lake nearby, with you along on the horse.

You felt a strong grip around your neck and oxygen was cut off. Gasping for air but mouthful of water gushed into your throat instead. Fear started to kick in as you pulled on the horse lead rope around your neck. You tried to yank it free but your horse was dead and it was sinking fast, and you were sinking with him. Your lungs burnt with pain as water filled your lungs instead of the air they craved.

You watched as you sank further away from the light. All you could think of was Levi. You could see him waking up next to you. The way his brows tightened before he opened his eyes, and how they lit up as his whispered a 'morning, love' with his sleepy deep voice. It was your day off but Levi was used to waking up early so you laid together just grinning sheepishly at each other and waiting for the sun to rise.

You felt heavy and slowly your eyes closed...

.

When Levi heard the first shot of smoke gun, he was looking frantically at the direction it came from. He memorised your position in the scouting formation and he, although desperately hoping it wasn't you, certain it was you. And then he heard the second gun shot. Before he could see the black smoke, he was already riding toward you after yelling at his team to carry forward. He knew Erwin's orders in not engaging in any titans unless necessary. You were his necessity.

He cursed under his breath how far you were stationed away from him. He knew your ability to fend for yourself, he trained you enough to know you can fend for yourself and even protect others. He only agreed to having you being stationed alone because you were not in the furthest out. But accidents happened.

When he reached the smoke location, the couple of scouts behind you had caught up to your position and was attacking the abnormal titan.

"Stand back!" Levi yelled at them as he leaped from his horse and sliced the left cheek of the titan. Turning its head, Levi flew above it and sliced its nape. The titan was down within seconds.

"Where is y/n?! Where is y/n?!" He yelled at the stunned scouts. They shook and said they never saw you.

No, Levi thought, no, this can't be.

He scanned around, taking every drop of blood on the grass in and analysing. He saw a pool of blood a few meters away from the titan's steaming body and the empty guns your fired. The blood then dripped towards his left, each drop further to one another as it went. Following the blood trail, he saw a deep red in the middle of a lake. Without a second of hesitation, he jumped into the lake.

Pushing the dark water behind him, he swam deeper and deeper. Please please please please please, he prayed. He was too afraid to find out what was under the lake. His heart sank as soon as he saw a glitter among the darkness. Your mother's necklace. He swam harder and your ghostly face appeared before him. Grabbing the back of your neck, he felt the ropes immediately. He tried to pull at it but he saw your headless horse. He pulled out his knife from his back pocket and cut the rope, dragging you to the surface as soon as the rope snapped.

Dropping you onto the grass, Levi blew air into your mouth and pushed his palms onto your chest. "Breathe, y/n! Breathe! Please, breathe!" Levi begged. After 30 compressions, he blew into your mouth again. Pumping on your chest, your face blurred as his eyes were filled with lake water and tears. After another 30 compressions, he blew into your mouth again, this time he cried out in desperation.

"No, no, please, y/n, please," Levi started sobbing, "no, come back.. Come back to me, y/n.."

Just then your body jerked forward and you vomited a mouthful of water. Your throat burned as you coughed the last bitter water out of your lungs. You were squeezed between Levi's arms and you felt him shaking. You lifted your arm weakly and rested on his back. The field was silent except for Levi's wailing.

.

That night at camp, lying in the same sleeping bag, Levi held you underneath him as if he was trying to physically shield you from all harms. This was the first time Levi openly held you for so long. He couldn't stop caressing your hair and touching your heart, convincing himself you came back to him.

Tilting your head, you kissed his cheek softly. He snuggled closer, pushing his cheek to your forehead.

Inhaling your hair, Levi then exhaled in relief. He asked for the millionth time, "promise me you will never ever leave me."

Turning your face to fit on his neck, you whispered, "I promise," for the millionth time.

~ Thank you thank you thank you so so much for sending in a request. I feel so much better after I wrote this and I can't wait to write more during the weekends! I do enjoy writing hurt/comfort fics too and I almost forgot that feeling. Thank you so much for bringing it back, I do hope you enjoy it ~

wait, is this angst? or hurt? or both? but definitely comfort :)

[steverogersandpeggycarter]

Sitting in my favorite tea shop writing, and "It's Been a Long, Long Time" just came on their radio. I knew there was a reason I liked this place 😁

[lavender-long-stories]

This is going to seem very of topic for me, but hear me out.

I wish it was still common for a bunch of artists to record the same song. They all come out a little different.

It's Been a Long, Long Time - Kitty Kallen - classic - my favorite - feels like a long hug after not seeing someone for a long time

It's Been A Long, Long Time - Louis Armstrong - jazzy - quicker - improv-y - classic Louis

It's Been a Long, Long Time - Doris Day - dreamy airy

It’s Been a Long, Long Time - Bing Crosby - slow - sounds like a lullaby

I want to see all the twists and turns different artists put on one song and not just in live shows where they do a cover. I want a recording. I want a good song to come out and then watch people play with it.

It's like fanfiction (I told you it was on topic). I don't care if I have seen this trope with these characters before. I want to see it again, slightly different. I want to see what someone else does with it.

Who cares if it's been done if it's not been done by you yet.

[missstar489]

guess who's trying to remember how to draw again

I realized there is a severe lacking of the Best Girl of the X era so if I gotta flood the tag myself so fucking be it

[noxwithoutstars]

First of all reqs open again

finally doing the desolation and hunt neogender umbrellas and gendies ahhhhhhhh

If anyone wants a tag pls say !

Also @radiomogai were you just going to do the spiral and the eye ( which are occunous and imosril ? )

[xmenwickedgame]

would you kill for me ? -Maddie to Mal

The former Dark Elf paused, looking up from the book he'd been casually thumbing through. He studied her a moment, only partly ignoring the painful thump of his dual hearts whenever he did. Would he kill for her? This fearsome, fiery mistress of dark magic?

'That depends, Malekith. Is she worth fighting for?'

A little smile tugged at his mouth; he reached across the table, and after hovering a moment, placed his hand over hers.

"Yes."

[rainintheevening]

I'll admit one of my favorite things about finally watching all the Star Wars movies, is the nostalgia trip of, "Oh, we had that ship!" Or, "Oh we had him and those speeders." Or, "That's Boba Fett!! Or is it Jango Fett?" Or, "The droids!" And, "Obi-Wan’s SHIP!" Because I grew up collecting LEGO Star Wars with my brother for years, and that was how I learned the story.

(We had at least three of these, because we each got one at Zellers, and then our Aunt gave us one.)

[bubblebear5000]

honestly if i don't someday get to dance with my lover in the kitchen after dark to some old jazz/50's/love song then what's the point in living anymore

[winniemaywebber]

It's Been A Long, Long Time • Part 2

💕 Jean 💕

read previous chapter here

warnings: 18+, oral (f receiving), mention of sexual intercourse.

taglist: @sagesolsticewrites @ginabaker1666 @agir1ukn0w @precious-little-scoundrel

Putting the finishing touches to your famous cherry pie, you remove your apron and walk into the living room, trying your best to swipe flour off your dress as you enter. 

“Pie is done, Binger,” you say quietly so as not to wake the baby in his arms. Yours and Harry's son had taken to mixing up his days and nights. Not a wink of sleep from midnight - what Bing liked to call his witching hour - until at least 5am. It had started to take its toll on the pair of you, the both of you sleeping in shifts for the most of a fortnight. You missed your husband dearly, despite being back in the same house. There was just something about savoring his arms around you, his nose snuffling into your neck as he slept, the comfort you'd been craving for years. You knew it was hard for him too: waking alone from a horrific nightmare, your soft hands not there to soothe him back to sleep and reassure him he's home and safe. 

Placing the baby in his bassinet, Harry gets up from the couch and stretches, yawning heavily before walking into the kitchen. 

“It looks wonderful, my love. He'll love it.”

“Are you sure?” you question, eyebrow raised a little. “You're sure he said that was his favorite?” 

“Yes, Mrs Crosby,” he laughs, kissing your forehead. “I like to think I'd remember these little things about my friends. Don't worry yourself so.” He pulls you into his arms and strokes your back, his nose falling into the crook of your neck. You feel yourself purr into him at the sensation of him tickling and kissing your neck, gasping a little. 

“He's asleep,” your husband murmurs. “Come to bed with me, darling.” 

“But Rosie will be here any moment and…ahhh–” You can barely piece the rest of your thought together because of Harry putting his mouth on yours, his tongue entering soon after. 

“Fine, we won't go to bed,” he murmurs, pushing you against the counter. “Here is more than fine.” With that, his strong, pretty hands are lifting up the skirt of your dress and gripping your legs, lifting you slightly to get you to sit on the counter. 

“Harry…” you groan as you watch him kneel down in front of you, pulling your underwear to the side. 

“What, my little wife? Do you want me to stop?” he questions, those brown, puppy dog eyes looking up at you as he begins to plant soft kisses on your the inside of your thighs, getting closer to your core with each one. 

“N-no,” you finally stutter out. “It-its just…oh, my gosh.” You're cut off by your husband's tongue taking you apart in seconds. He pulls away, gently pushing a finger inside you. 

"It's just what, darling? Tell me. Tell your Bing just what it is.” 

You can't seem to formulate words due to the pleasure fogging your brain, so you just shake your head, breath ragged. 

“That's what I thought,” he murmurs, returning his face to in between your legs, throwing your leg over his shoulder. “Now, let me make my wife feel good.” 

You're a mess, moments later, Bing mumbling filthy praise as you writhe in front of him. “Wow…you needed that, huh?” He stands up, wiping his mouth and kissing you, you moaning at the taste of yourself on his tongue. 

“Mhm,” you reply, your mouth still on his. “I always need you.” 

“Good,” he grins. He plants a sweet kiss on your nose, winking at you. “We'd better go clean up.” 

---

It's just as Harry's spitting toothpaste into the sink that you hear the doorbell ring. You both look at each other, wincing and waiting for the inevitable screech that strangely, doesn't come. You take a final look at yourself in the bathroom mirror before running to the door, Harry following close behind you, his hands squeezing your butt as you turn away.

“Hey!” you squeal, playfully swatting at him. He chuckles, pulling you towards him again for a quick kiss. 

The doorbell rings again, and Harry goes to open the door. “Here he is!” he shouts, pulling his friend into a hug. “Robbie Rosenthal!”

“Croz, how are ya?” he responds, slapping him on the back. He makes eye contact with you stood behind the pair of them, giving them time to greet one another after so long. 

“Jeez, Croz,” He pulls away, smiling at you. “Wonderful to see ya. And this must be the Mrs Jean Crosby.” 

“Hi, Rosie. A pleasure, finally!” You go to shake his hand, but he pulls you into a huge bear hug. 

“So, so, good to finally meet you.” 

He follows you and Harry into the house, placing his bag by the door. 

“How was your journey, bud?” Harry asks, placing a cold beer in front of him. 

“Ah, not so bad,” he responds, taking a sip. “Jo says she's sorry she couldn't be here.” With that, he glances over at you, and you share a sad glance.

“Oh, my sweet Jo,” you respond wistfully. Jo had been part of the team of ladies keeping you upright in many ways during the time Harry was away. She was always there with a listening ear, a kind heart and a shoulder to cry on when things got especially tough. Because of that, she is now one of your most treasured friends, and holds such a special place in your heart. “I miss her terribly. How is she? Of course, we write weekly but it's not the same as being around her.”

“I know, Jean. She's doing great, beautiful as ever. We've been fixing up a little house to move into after we're married. You guys are gonna come, right?”

“You think we'd miss that, Rose? Come on, man, you know me better than that!” The men laugh, clinking beer bottles as you're pulling vanilla ice cream from the freezer to serve with the pie when a soft cry pours through from the living room into the kitchen. You nod apologetically towards the men and go retrieve the baby.

“Hi, sunshine,” you murmur, picking him up. “That was a good nap, huh? Good boy, I'm sure you feel much better now. Guess who's here?” You lay him down on the changing mat to change his diaper, cooing all the while. “That's right, my boy! Uncle Rosie. Uncle Rosie's here to see you!” 

You feel the presence of someone in the doorway, and look up to see Harry, his arms crossed, smiling at you and the baby. 

“What, darling?” You say, buttoning the baby's romper. 

“That never gets old, sweetheart. You and him, me being here to see it. I love it.” He walks over and takes the baby from you, kissing his chubby cheeks before kissing yours. “I love you, Mrs Crosby.”

“I love you more, Bing.”

Rosie gasps as Croz brings the baby into the kitchen, his eyes lighting up and softening at the same time. He stands up, the chair squeaking on the kitchen floor as he reaches his hands out, holding the baby to his body.

“Hi, buddy!” He chirps, smiling down at him. “How's it goin’? Huh? You running mom and dad ragged? Yeah? That's what I thought, little guy. Good job!” He carries on like this, rambling in a voice that's several octaves higher than you just heard, the baby gurgling in response.

“Oh, you guys,” he says, back to his normal husky tone, his eyes shining. “He's beautiful.” 

---

The rest of the day passes quickly, both men rushing around you and switching the baby between them, so you can sit down and rest. Thankful for the extra pair of hands, you take the opportunity to take a long, hot bath and relax, your Bing coming in for just a moment to sit on the edge of the tub, telling you a story from their time in England that he'd just remembered thanks to Rosie and that he just had to tell you immediately, all while rubbing lavender soap into your legs. 

While you're getting ready for bed, you reread Jo's latest letter, which you plan to reply to in the morning.

Darling Jean,

How are you? Good, I hope. I'm so sorry to read that the little guy isn't sleeping well. I imagine that can be so exhausting.

I'm glad Robbie will be there in a few days. That extra pair of hands around so you can relax will be welcome, I'm sure. I'm just so sorry I cannot be there too, to be with you while the boys share their anecdotes. While our men may have lost so much in the years they were away from us, I'm glad it gave us something: each other. You are one of my dearest friends and I am forever glad and grateful that your Harry and my Robert became friends, thus putting us together. I wouldn't know how to live without you now. 

Back to not being able to join Robbie on this trip: tell him to hurry up and marry me so I'm able to come see you and the baby. Start dropping hints now, lady! I'm dying to see you and my beloved nephew. 

Goodbye for now, my dear. All my love, always.

Your friend,

Jo

You smile, placing the letter back on your nightstand, sniffling a little. She is right; the men losing so much, yet you both gaining this friendship is bittersweet. Her being there for you when Harry came home on leave, your nerves wrecked after not seeing your husband for years. She was one of the first people you told when you found out you were pregnant, both of you weeping with joy and hugging. Wiping your present tears away, you run downstairs to take the baby so that Bing can take the first sleep shift. 

“Harry, darling,” you coo. “You'd better sleep if you want to take Rosie golfing tomorrow morning!”

“Oh, thanks, honey,” he says, clumsily standing from the couch so as not to disturb the dozing baby in his arms. “Here ya go, buddy,” he says, placing the baby in your waiting arms. “Go to mama. Goodnight, my son.” He kisses him on the head, then it's your turn, placing a deep kiss on your mouth. 

“Hold on, you guys,” Rosie starts, placing his whiskey glass on the table in front of him. “You aren't going to bed together?”

“We can't right now, Rosie,” you say, sadly. “Little guy here wakes at all hours, so we take it in turns right now.”

“I'm not having that!” he says, shocked. “Go to bed together, I'm here for a reason. Uncle Rosie and his new best buddy can have a few hours to get to know one another a bit better. You've got jazz, a record player and I've got arms that aren't exhausted to be able to hold him all hours.”

“Are you sure, bud?” Harry says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“Yes, Croz. Go curl up with your wife. I'll be here.”

“Thanks, doll,” you say, a grateful smile on your face. “Come wake us if there's any trouble, okay?” You place the dozing baby in his bassinet next to the armchair Rosie is sitting in, and gently pat his shoulder in thanks.

“I wouldn't dream of it. Goodnight, you two!”

---

You and Harry ascend the stairs together, breathing a sigh of grateful relief. Pulling his shirt off, your Bing walks towards you, his hands finding their way up your night dress. “How's about we pick up where we left off earlier?” he winks, his hands getting further up your bare skin.

“Hmm, yes please.”

“Good,” he murmurs, kissing you deeply. “Just be quiet, Mrs Crosby. We don't want the cops called on us.” 

masterlist

part three

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Expertise can't help you here.

[demaparbat-hp]

Arsonist's Lullaby

[wasabi-gumdrop]

local ladies man’s signature move totally useless against autistic monster enthusiast. more on Kabru’s fumble era at 6

[polarsirens]

i am not at all caught up with fantasy high freshman and sophomore year but i’ve jumped into the middle of things and this today nearly made me bawl

life kinda sucks and i haven’t time to enjoy my comfort media but junior year’s been…. it’s really been a wonderful thing to have this to look forward to every week